


Adopting A Human

by Alice_In_The_Sky



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: AU, Because I like cats, Fluff, Gen, I hope I got the terms right, I really need to finish the rest of my deadlines..., Keats adopts a human, hints of Claire/Hershel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice_In_The_Sky/pseuds/Alice_In_The_Sky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Universe</p><p>Keats decided one day to adopt a human. </p><p>A human tom! It came as a great shock to the clowder he usually hung out with. Keats was the cats' cat! He hunted well and had a large territory. He was the envy of all the cats for several streets. Why then would he adopt a human?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adopting A Human

**Author's Note:**

> It's 4am where I am and suddenly this little fic came and I needed to write it before it drives me crazy and I wouldn't be able to finish the rest of my deadlines. This is something kinda fluffy because I want to give you all something happy and fluffy. I haven't finished writing the next chapter of "For us who were once lost" but I will add a new chapter hopefully before the week ends or early next week. XDD
> 
> I hope this fic will make you happy.
> 
> This is written in the kinda point of view of Keats.

Keats decided one day to adopt a human.

A human tom! It came as a great shock to the clowder he usually hung out with. Keats was the cats' cat! He hunted well and had a large territory. He was the envy of all the cats for several streets. Why then would he adopt a human?

Another tom at that.

In truth, Keats wasn't quite certain why either. But the human tom he adopted sort of grew on him. He'd found the human by one of the buildings in his territory that had fallen in a big bang some weeks before and for some odd reason, he had watched the human. At some point, the human had noticed him and started to greet to him in his odd human way. The offerings of cat food weren't bad either and soon, he found himself intrigued. He shadowed the human tom as he went from his territory to a place where all the human kittens go to learn how to hunt and learn human things until finally he allowed the human tom to touch his fur and take him to his territory.

He learned that his human tom's name was Hershel Layton. It was an odd name to be sure, and as the days went by, he observed that his tom acted more like a kitten sometimes, that he started to refer to his human as a kitten.

He never forgot to feed him (Thank goodness for small mercies.) But whenever he was so engrossed with scratching at a pile of papers on his desk with a stick or reading from a book or two, he always forgot to feed himself. Keats wasn't an expert on humans so he might be wrong. Maybe Hershel was still a kitten? Or perhaps he was between kittenhood and being an adult? Whatever age he was, he was concerned by the human's lack of self-preservation.

Exasperated, Keats knew that he needed to teach his tom kitten how to hunt.

Truly, sometimes he wondered how did his human tom survive that long without someone to care for him? He was almost as helpless as a kitten. Certainly as messy as one, from all the papers and books and other nice-things-to-use-for-scratching things laying on the floor all around his territory.

Finally, after another day, Keats decided that enough was enough. He used the open window to get out of the house and caught himself a nice plump mouse to take back home. He knew where all the good hunting places were and the park near his territory was a great place for hunting. His tom kitten after all had given him food. And while he was quite certain the cat food he ate was not to his kitten's liking, perhaps something more fresh was.

Hershel had company when he entered the open window. Another human tom with yellowish-brown whiskers. _Clark._ His kitten called him. He looked much more an adult tom than his own. They seemed to be deep in a conversation in their odd sounding human language. He could hear some words that sounded like _'Claire'_ and _'Hawks'_ in their conversation. Whatever those words were, it seemed to make his kitten sad. He smelled sad too and that would not do. _  
_

He quietly, padded towards the two then proudly laid the mouse by Hershel's feet and meowed. The poor human was so surprised, he uttered a loud yowl in distress. The sound made Keats jumped away, hissing, ears flattened back, claws and fangs bared.

After a few moments, Clark (whom Keats was quite surprised could speak the majestic cat language) asked him why he gave Hershel the mouse.

"My kitten needs to learn how to hunt." He declared, annoyed. "I won't have my human dying of hunger."

Clark looked so amused that he threw his head back and laughed. Then when Clark was done, he spoke to his human. His human seemed to understand after a while. With great affection, Hershel gently picked him up and ran his fingers through his soft fur that always made him purr. He said some things, praising him for his good hunting skills and the like, it seemed, and he didn't smell so sad anymore. It felt good and Keats told him so. He rubbed his face against his human's face and hands and anything he could reach. Keats would always take care of his human.

From then on, Keats noticed that his human finally learned how to hunt for himself and fed himself properly. Though Hershel was still as messy as only a kitten could be. They were quite happy.

Though they might not fully comprehend each other using their languages, Keats and his human tom understood each other in the ways that mattered.

 

* * *

  **END OF PART ONE**

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> I once had a cat, an old tom that claimed our area as his own. He was an old thing. An alley cat really. One eye blind and scars on his body but he was a nice cat. Hunted rats and the like and the other cats that tried to take his territory were easily frightened away by him. At some point, I think he rather liked me because out of all the residents in the compound where we lived, I was the only one he ever allowed near him, even though everyone else was trying to get him to warm up to them with food.
> 
> One of my neighbors remarked that the old cat had kinda officially adopted me because the old tom kept leaving me dead mice (and once it was a small bird) by my feet or by the door of our house. (I screamed the first time he did that.)
> 
> No one can really own a cat, I think. They really adopt you and not the other way around. XDD This fic has some of my observations about that cat.
> 
> I tried to write it from the point of view of Keats. Hopefully, it's okay.


End file.
